


Lover Dearest

by APurpleAvacado



Category: Free!, Free! Eternal Summer - Fandom, free! Iwatobi swimclub
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Emotional Abuse, Eventual Sousuke/Makoto, M/M, Mental Abuse, Rating May Change, Tokyo - Freeform, archive warnings may change, eventual Yamazaki Sousuke/Tachibana Makoto, physical abuse - minor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APurpleAvacado/pseuds/APurpleAvacado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto finished university and he and his friends moved on - Haru having left to pursue his swimming career with Rin - leaving Makoto alone in Tokyo where he met his boyfriend, Kaimu. Makoto is lucky to have him. No-one loves Makoto like Kaimu does; no-one could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just a Hobby

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not giving A THING away about Sousuke. Not even in the summary. I feel like a mention would take away from the whole fic, so. You will just have to wait and see when and how he plays a part in Makoto's story.

It had been years since Makoto had heard from his friends – he knew what they were doing – most of them had achieved various levels of notoriety. Haruka and Rin had become world-class swimmers and were even rumoured to be headed to the Olympic stage soon enough. Nagisa was in Higashi-ku working at a Dolphinarium, performing with the marine life there. He was, apparently, quite popular. He had seen Nagisa once on a billboard, advertising the place. He had looked as bubbly as ever, and perhaps a little taller. Makoto had had to laugh a little bit when he saw Rei in a fashion catalogue. The man knew a thing or two about beauty, but he had always thought Rei would return to track after university, or maybe put his intelligence to better use. That said, Makoto thought of Rei as a rising star. Rei would be able to use his talents eventually – do something worth-while.

 

Makoto had stayed in Tokyo after Haru had left to follow Rin in the world of competitive swimming. In the early days, Makoto had had time and money to see Haru race in person, before he got scouted. Haruka could have gone back to the people who had scouted him back in highschool, but chose not to. He said it felt too much like an audition, that he would have to prove himself again and the thought didn't sit well with him. Makoto didn't try to push him, knowing that Haru would likely fail to see the enjoyment of swimming again the way he did before, if he had to do something like that.

 

He had simply smiled at Haru and nodded, before he turned back to the film they had been watching at the time. It wasn't long after university that Makoto had met his boyfriend where he had been working – teaching children how to swim. Apparently, he'd gone to get some exercise done. He'd waited until the end of the day to speak to Makoto. He'd told the brunette he was the type to seize what he wanted and to forgive him if he was being forward, but he absolutely had to take Makoto on a date. Makoto, having been flattered and flustered at the time, had said yes. He can't say he'd never thought about dating or even dating a man, but he'd always been so afraid of approaching someone and getting refused; but this man, this beautiful, brave man had approached him and Makoto thought perhaps that he should be brave too.

 

The only thing he regrets is falling out of contact with his friends, but after a year or so, Makoto couldn't help but agree with his boyfriend that his focus should be more on their relationship than anything else. Kaimu worked longer hours than Makoto and earned more money, so Makoto made sure to make him as comfortable as possible when he came home. Accountancy was was a tiring job, but it made good money, and he said he only kept it up so he could care for Makoto properly.

 

Of course Makoto appreciated the gesture – living in Tokyo was difficult, especially on the low wages he got. Kaimu's financial support meant so much to Makoto. Kaimu meant a lot to Makoto, and as Makoto stood in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner with the TV on in the livingroom, filling the house with background noise, Makoto was content. Their apartment was a comfortable size, with a fairly sized kitchen and livingroom. Kaimu liked to have his friends over for drinks quite a bit so space had always been important to him. There was the master bedroom and an en-suite bathroom, both relatively small but still easy for them both to manoeuvre around one another comfortably. They only had a shower though. There was a second bedroom, but for practicalities sake, Kaimu had converted it into a laundry room. Sometimes, when Makoto had time, he would even take the neighbours washing if they were unable to go to the launderette, for a small fee.

 

Kaimu had been amused by the quaintness of the idea and allowed Makoto to keep up the practice. In fact, he had finished his neighbour's load which was folded neatly in the basket they had come in earlier that day. Kaimu hated the sound of the washing machine and tumble drier when he was at home.

 

In the corner of the kitchen sat a table, upon which Makoto set the last of their dinner, the miso soup still simmering gently on the stove to keep warm. The brunette turned when he heard the door open, quick to untie his apron and pull it over his head, hanging it up on a peg mounted on the door of the kitchen as he moved into the livingroom and over to he front door. Kaimu glanced up when he saw Makoto reaching for his briefcase, handing it to his lover easily. He smiled and leant in, pressing his lips gently against Makoto's before closing the front door behind him.

 

“Welcome home,” Makoto said softly, his usual smile in place. Kaimu was a few inches taller than Makoto and a little broader. He frequented the gym, going twice a week after work. He said he didn't want to become fat and lazy, given that Accountancy meant a lot of time sitting at a desk. Makoto could understand the logic.

 

“Something smells good,” Kaimu responded, slipping out of his shoes and moving further into the room to investigate the smell from the kitchen.

 

“I just finished dinner,” Makoto said, moving across the living room to deposit Kaimu's briefcase under his desk as per usual. There was no computer. Kaimu argued that there was no point, given that he had a laptop, which he took to work everyday, so Makoto had somewhat limited access to the internet and spent most of his time reading or doing chores when Kaimu was not at home.

 

There was a pause “with the TV on?” Kaimu asked, running a hand though his dark brown hair, chestnut eyes narrowed questioningly at Makoto.

 

“W-well,” Makoto started haltingly. “Yes...one of Haru's races was on.”

 

Kaimu sighed loudly, moving over to the coffee table and picking up the remote, quick to turn the TV off. “Your friend's race doesn't matter when I'm the one that has to foot the electricity bill,” Kaimu said sternly and Makoto nodded. Of course. Makoto always forgot about that rule. “You're either watching TV or you're not. How many times do I have to tell you to stop being so selfish?”

 

“At least once more..” Makoto responded softly, gulping.

 

Kaimu scoffed and moved into the kitchen “Come on,” He said “let's eat.”

 

Makoto nodded and moved quickly into the kitchen, and over to the stove, noting that Kaimu had already taken a seat. Makoto brought the miso soup and a ladle to the table where he proceeded to dish out their portions equally before returning it and taking his own seat at the table. They murmured 'itadakimasu' in unison before they began to eat in silence for a moment.

 

“I phoned my parents today...” Makoto stated softly, glancing up at Kaimu careful, who paused for a moment before he turned to Makoto, frowning.

 

“ _Why_?”

 

“I just wanted to catch up,” Makoto explained perhaps a little too quickly, “my brother and sister are doing really well in their studies apparently,” he explained, to which Kaimu nodded slightly, taking another sip of his miso soup before he spoke again.

 

“And you didn't speak to anyone else?”

 

Makoto shook his head “No,” he said “a-and I only spoke to them for half an hour,” Makoto said, almost as an after thought, which made Kaimu smile and reach up, to take Makoto's chin between a thumb and forefinger for a moment as if to praise him.

 

“Good,” Kaimu said “because you know I can always find out,” He explained and Makoto nodded, the little smile that had flitted across his face from the praise he'd received faltering for a moment. Kaimu checked the phone records once a month, sometimes twice if he thought Makoto was lying to him. It wasn't that Makoto wasn't allowed to use the phone, just that whenever he did, the rule was that he had to let Kaimu know. The man was very conscious about his expenses and did not like surprises at all. Makoto was also limited to calling his family home, if only because he knew that some of Makoto's friends were overseas and he most certainly didn't want to pay that kind of money. Makoto no longer knew the phone numbers of most of his friends nowadays regardless of limitations, so Kaimu did not worry too much.

 

“I know,” Makoto said, his smile back on his face, reaching out for a moment to take Kaimu's hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze before he let go and allowed Kaimu to go back to his meal. The room filled with silence again for a few minutes before Makoto once again chose to break it “how was work?”

 

“Exhausting,” Kaimu said with a frown “a newbie fucked up some numbers so I had to fix them and do my own work..I almost didn't come home on time,” he finished with a frown. Makoto's frown was a sympathetic one, reaching up to give Kaimu's shoulder a little squeeze and a rub, wanting to soothe the other man. Kaimu let out a soft groan and grinned a little at Makoto, who smiled back.

 

“Well, I'm glad you're home,” Makoto said softly, knowing that Kaimu might well have been angry to come home to a cold dinner.

 

“Me too,” he said, reaching up to hold Makoto's hand where it lay on his shoulder. “I could use a massage later though.”

 

“Of course,” Makoto concede with a little laugh. “It sounds like a hard day.”

 

Nodding, Kaimu released Makoto's hand and turned back to his dinner, focused on that more than anything else, piping up now again with a mumbled criticism, pushing food to the edge of his plate. Makoto knew his cooking wasn't perfect, and he knew Kaimu could be picky, so he just nodded, helping himself to his meal with a small frown. He had worked hard to make it something that Kaimu would enjoy, but nothing ever seemed to work.

 

Makoto couldn't help but wonder sometimes why Kaimu was still with him, if he could never get anything right. But – there was something. Love. Love is what kept the two of them together, and regardless of the fact that Kaimu never seemed to like his cooking, Makoto would try for him, get it right for him.

 

“And what about you?” Kaimu said, as he finished up his meal, Makoto coming to a stand to collect their dishes and move over to the sink.

 

“Me?”

 

Kaimu hummed, “Yeah,” he said “your day...at the pool.”

 

“Oh!” Makoto asked, turning the tap on before he began to wash the dishes. Kaimu stood from his chair and moved over to Makoto, who smiled a little at the feeling of the other man wrapping his arms loosely around his waist, chin perched on Makoto's shoulder. “The kids are fine...they were really well-behaved today,” he said with a little smile, turning to nuzzle his nose into Kaimu's temple before turning back to the dishes. “We made a lot of progress with their backstroke technique.”

 

Kaimu chuckled at that “you sound so serious,” he said, giving Makoto's waist a little squeeze before surreptitiously rolling his hips into Makoto's backside, making the other man bite his lip “It's only a hobby.”

 

“I-it's my job,” Makoto argued pointedly, leaning forwards slightly in an attempt to pull away from Kaimu and focus on cleaning up.

 

“It's a stupid hobby,” Kaimu retorted, simply moulding to Makoto's shape, pressing his chest against Makoto's back, holding the other tightly now. “it's not like parents can't teach their own kids to swim, why would they need you,” he said with a chuckle and Makoto couldn't help but wince at the words. “You're just a glorified babysitter – they don't expect their kids to learn anything,” Kaimu said with a little laugh, rolling his hips into Makoto again.. “No one would even miss you if you left. You're not exactly essential.”

 

Makoto's actions slowly came to a stop as rinsing the soap suds off his hands and turning the tap off, frowning. “No,” He said, perhaps a little falteringly, “t-the parents are always telling me what good work I do...”

 

Kaimu snorted, “right,” he said, shifting slightly “you can't even cook your man a proper meal, what makes you think they're being anything but polite?”

 

“So...” Makoto said, taking in a shuddering breath. He felt as if he were going to cry, but tried to resist the sensation. Kaimu hated it when he cried. “What are you saying...?”

 

“I'm saying,” Kaimu said slowly, as if talking to a child, “quit.” Makoto bit his lip, closing his eyes when he felt Kaimu's hand travel lower to grope pointedly at his ass cheek. “Besides...I can think of so many more worth-while things you could be doing at home..”

 

Makoto let out a gasp and shook his head slightly “but I've wanted to teach for so long-”

 

Then Makoto felt Kaimu push him almost violently into the counter in front of him, rolling his hips into Makoto's clothed backside again. Gasping, Makoto stilled, feeling Kaimu reach further around Makoto and taking hold of his hands, almost as if to trap him there, in an embrace of sorts. “It doesn't matter what you want if you can't make a difference,” Kaimu growled into Makoto's ear “like I said. They don't need you,” but then, Kaimu sighed “but I do,” he told Makoto, whispering softly into his ear this time “you can have your little laundry business you have going on. You can still bring money into the household,” he cooed. Makoto obviously needed an occupation of some kind.

 

“But-”

 

“And you'll even have more time to practice your cooking.”

 

“Y-yeah...” Makoto answered, trying and failing to mask the disappointment in his tone.

 

“Oh don't be like that,” Kaimu said, giving Makoto's hands a reassuring squeeze and chuckling good-naturedly, “you love me don't you?”

 

“Yes,” Makoto said immediately, for the first time almost enjoying the way Kaimu rolled his hips against him.

 

“And you want to look after me, don't you?”

 

“Y-yes, of course, _yes_ ,” Makoto said again, closing his eyes as the sensation of his lover against him overcame him, even as Kaimu's hands moved away from Makoto's and over his waist and chest again.

 

“Then it's decided,” Kaimu said resolutely, and Makoto opened his eyes, shock running through him at the abruptness of the statement “I'll help you draft a resignation letter in the morning before I go to take to work with you.”

 

It was then that Makoto shifted, shoving back against Kaimu enough that he could turn around to face his lover “ _Kaimu_..!”

 

The man scowled and reached up, taking Makoto's jaw into his grasp tightly “ _No_ ,” he snapped “don't fucking argue with me when I'm only doing what's best for you! You're too young to know about these things!” Makoto gripped the counter at his side, wincing at his treatment. It was true enough. There was a significant age gap between them. Kaimu was in late thirties and Makoto only in his mid-twenties. Makoto hadn't minded the gap – not when Kaimu was so charming and sweet, but right now, Makoto knew he'd upset the man, and knew he would have to do something to make it up to him. It was his fault after all, for not listening. “You're too ignorant...too sweet.”

 

It was only when Kaimu released his hold on Makoto that the younger man turned his head away and lowered his gaze, hoping against hope that Kaimu didn't see the tears springing to his eyes. Kaimu was right. He had to be. He would never steer Makoto in the wrong direction...and Makoto got so many things wrong; Kaimu was always saying so. “Kaimu..” Makoto couldn't help but breath out, voice shuddering.

 

Raising a brow, Kaimu chuckled, reaching up to gently cup Makoto's face in his hands, thumbs coming up to wipe at the tears falling from Makoto's eyes. He shushed Makoto gently for a moment before he spoke again “now, now, it's okay...I know you don't mean to argue...come on, you can finish cleaning up later,” Kaimu whispered, retracting his hands after carefully turning Makoto's face towards him, to place a careful kiss on his lips “you're just being a little stupid right now...but you'll see I'm right tomorrow. Now, come to bed with me so I can make you feel better okay?”

 

After a moment of hesitation, Makoto gave a single nod of agreement before he pushed off the counter, one hand in Kaimu's as the man lead the way into their bedroom, using his free one to wipe away the tears.

 


	2. Running Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto knows what he has to do, and what he has to do is make Kaimu happy, even if that means quitting a job that he loves. Of course, not everything goes smoothly 100% of the time, right?

The following morning, Makoto woke pressed against Kaimu's side, his arm flung across the other's man's chest, enjoying the loose embrace Kaimu gave him as he too was stirred awake by the sound of his alarm clock. Makoto smiled softly and shifted to his elbows so he could place a good morning kiss on Kaimu's shoulder before he slipped out of bed, quick to find a robe to wrap around his nakedness. He was somewhat raw from their activities the night before, almost uncomfortably so, but Makoto didn't mind – not really.

Makoto could always gauge how angry Kaimu was by how rough he was in bed, and he had been relatively gentle that night. He did say, after all, that he'd wanted to make Makoto feel better, and he had succeeded. So, Makoto took himself to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face before he went to the kitchen to get started on Kaimu's breakfast. Kaimu started work earlier than Makoto, so he always cooked his breakfast first while the man got ready for work.

Already having leftover miso soup from the night before, Makoto was glad not to have needed to prepare it that morning and instead set about the boiled salmon and steamed rice. Once that was done, Makoto prepared the dried horse mackerel – a dish, he often recalled with amusement was always something Haru ate for breakfast, and Makoto briefly wondered if he still kept up the habit

It wasn't long before Kaimu entered the kitchen, just as Makoto was setting the last of the dishes down on the dining table, moving over Makoto to press a kiss against his lips, “good morning,” he said to Makoto as he handed his lover a small brown envelope. “I took the liberty of writing your resignation letter while you were making breakfast.”

“O-oh..” Makoto began taking the letter by the tips of his fingers as if merely touching the thing would seal his fate. “Thank you,” he managed to say with a little smile. He was glad at least that he didn't have to watch Kaimu write it, else he likely would have cried and upset Kaimu's morning.

Of course it was then that Kaimu turned to take his seat, hesitating to sit for a moment, with his hand on the back of the chair, staring down at the meal set before him. He frowned a little “you know what?” he said lightly, moving out of the kitchen without so much as touching the food, leaving Makoto to stare dumbly at him as he left. “I think I'll get something on the way to work.”

Makoto gaped between the breakfast and the door, but soon followed Kaimu out into the livingroom “b-but you'll be spending-”

“It's all right,” Kaimu said, taking his briefcase out from under the desk where Makoto had left it the day before. “You really should have gotten this for me, you know.”

“Um,” Makoto said dumbly as he moved to the door with Kaimu, out of habit.

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it,” Kaimu said with a smile, pressing his lips to Makoto's again before he opened the door and left the apartment swiftly, Makoto ringing his hands together, worriedly, careful not to crease the envelope in his hands as he glanced back at the kitchen.

Throwing the envelope onto a nearby shelf, Makoto was quick to return to the kitchen, stopping short of the dining table to stare at the food. Kaimu had never outright rejected Makoto's food before, but looking at it, Makoto couldn't see what would warrant the mildly disgusted look on his lover's face. It seemed just like any other breakfast would – it's not like Kaimu hadn't eaten any of it before...so he knew all the food was to Kaimu's tastes. 

Eyes narrowing at the food, Makoto moved closer, scrutinising it as if he would be able to identify the problem by appearance alone – or maybe it was the smell? Makoto sat down at the table then, still frowning at his food. Picking up some chopsticks, Makoto poked at the salmon, closing then around the food and breaking the flesh apart. It was cooked....all the way through. He did the same to the mackerel; cooked. The miso soup met Kaimu's approval the night before and the rice was just the right consistency. 

Everything _looked_ fine.

Makoto simply couldn't figure out what had so offended Kaimu. Was he simply not hungry? Wouldn't he have said something if that were the case? Makoto brought a hand up to worry at his lower lip, letting out a quaking sigh. The meal the night before must have disappointed Kaimu – he hadn't eaten everything after all. Makoto realised then that he must have screwed up somewhere, but how?

Biting his lip, Makoto leant forwards resting his elbows on the table in front of him as he hid his face in his hands, choking back a sob. Kaimu was right. He needed to quit so he had time to at least _try_ to learn to cook properly. There was no way he could make a good teacher if he could not teach himself to make anything other than miso soup the way Kaimu liked it. It felt like Makoto was somehow getting _worse_ at cooking.

Letting out a short, frustrated huff, Makoto stood, slamming his hands on the table as he did so before, in a flurry of movement, frantically shoved the food, thoroughly uneaten, into the trash. Kaimu would likely yell at him for wasting food, but what was the point in eating it at all if Kaimu wasn't happy with it.

Makoto hurriedly did the dishes then, frowning as he went, although he was careful not to break anything, before he moved back into the bedroom. Makoto took his time in the shower, deciding simply to grab a banana from the fruit bowl in the livingroom before he headed out to work. It would mean he'd have extra time to get ready if he didn't have to cook for himself after all. 

 

 

Once he was finally at work, the faint scent of chlorine filling the lobby gave Makoto a familiar sense of comfort that, more than anything in that moment, Makoto felt like he needed. It made him smile in a way that he hadn't all morning. Still, the weight of the envelope, which felt more like a ton of bricks than a flimsy piece of paper, played heavily on his mind. He was not there to work – not really; and as he approached the staffroom behind the reception desk, offering the secretary a polite greeting as he went, the thought became more and more apparent in his mind.

The staff room was a large one with a small kitchenette at the far side of the room where people could prepare their lunch if necessary. The middle of the room was occupied by three sets of sofas and two living chairs arranged in a loose square, although not nearly as many seats were needed at any one time. For a moment, Makoto couldn't help but take in the view from the window across the room, beside the kitchenette, struck by the vague realisation that he would likely not be seeing that view again for some time, if not ever again.

Clearing his throat, Makoto turned away from the window, rubbing at his eye with a finger, his eyes still red and agitated from the morning's events. Makoto was a little embarrassed about it, although no-one was there to see. He felt like he had overreacted to the whole situation. Either way, Makoto decided that if he could not please one person, then there was no way at all that he could please both his co-workers and the many, many visitors that came through the doors of the pool facility. 

He jumped at the sound of a very deliberate cough sounding behind him, and he whirled around, placing a hand on his chest and letting out a relieved chuckle at the sight of the person before him. “Mai-san!” Makoto said, a small smile flitting it's way onto his face “you startled me.”

“I can see that!” before him stood a woman several inches shorter than him, with long black hair pulled up into a pony-tail, with one or two strands of grey beginning to colour her hair. She was in her late forties, and pretty, if Makoto did say so himself, and also his boss. She wore a pale yellow polo shirt and tracksuit bottoms, clearly intending to swim for a while that morning, as was usually her practice. “You're early,” Mai observed with a raised brow and a smile, her brown eyes betraying her mild suspicion. 

Makoto nodded quickly, hurriedly holding the envelope out to the older woman.

“What's this?” she asked, frowning at the envelope even as she took it into her hands, beginning to open it slowly.

“M-my...letter of resignation,” Makoto said quietly, to which Mai gasped.

“What?!” the woman burst out, obviously shocked at the news “Why, Makoto, is something the matter – because we can talk through this if you're having trouble-”

“N-no!” Makoto interrupted Mai's bombardment of words “No,” he said again when Mai fell silent, frowning. “I'm fine...”

Mai folded her arms across her chest for a moment, looking sceptical “are you sure?” she pressed pointedly “you look very upset for someone who's 'fine,' if I do say so myself.”

With a shake of the head, Makoto let out a little laugh “I just have a lot of things going on is all,” he explained, vaguely “I want to be at home for a while.”

“Well if you ever need to talk-”

“I don't,” Makoto said quickly, but smiled all the same “but thank you.”

Mai sighed loudly after taking a moment to wipe the concerned look off her face at Makoto's abrupt tone. “Fine then,” she conceded “but you'll be working here until we can find a replacement for you.”

At that, Makoto frowned “really?”

Rolling her eyes, Mai stepped forwards “yes, really,” he replied, stepping around Makoto and moving into her office, which was just to the right of the staff room entrance door. For a moment, Makoto couldn't help but stand there, having been certain he would have been dismissed immediately, but...maybe, just maybe, Kaimu had been wrong. Maybe, Makoto reasoned, he wasn't as disposable as he thought.

 

 

When the evening finally came, Makoto found himself back at home, quick to take a shower and prepare for Kaimu's arrival. Work that day had been especially good, but Makoto attributed it to the fact that he would be leaving soon and wanted to cherish every moment he could, although he had had to stay behind with a child whose parents were running late – which meant of course that Makoto too, was going to be late home. As such, he was late preparing dinner.

Makoto didn't bother to flip the TV on as he moved about the kitchen, pulling out the things he needed to make dinner that night, trying to think of the simplest, things he could do with the time that he had. Of course, Kaimu would be home right on schedule.

“Makoto?” He heard Kaimu from the living room, quickly turning off the stove before he moved into the livingroom, this time not even trying to remove his apron as he approached his boyfriend and took his suitcase.

“Welcome home,” Makoto said as usual, with a slightly flustered smile. “I'm sorry...dinner isn't ready yet,” he explained, a guilty look flitting it's way across his face as Kaimu's frown.

“Why not?” Kaimu asked, moving further into the room after removing his shoes, allowing Makoto to go to the desk and place the briefcase in his hands under the desk, as usual.

“I'm sorry,” the younger man said again, quick to move back into the kitchen, although he made sure to project his voice as he turned the stove back on “one of the parents was late picking their child up,” he said, glancing behind him when he heard Kaimu pad his way into the kitchen, removing his jacket and throwing it over the back of the dining chair in the corner of the room.

“That's not good enough, Makoto,” Kaimu said, quite sternly. It was all Makoto could do to nod in agreement.

“I know, I just-”

“Just what?” Kaimu snapped, narrowing his gaze at Makoto, who could feel the gaze boring into the back of his head “thought you would have enough time when you got home?” his lover snapped and Makoto did his best to focus on the meal he was preparing. “And maybe you did,” Kaimu continued with a shrug “maybe you're just useless when it comes to managing your time properly.”

Makoto said nothing to argue with the man, not wanting to irritate him further, but said simply “I'm sorry,” he said, finally turning to look at Kaimu for a moment, looking thoroughly chastised “maybe you could just relax for a while...watch TV...I can bring you a drink if you like?” Makoto asked, trying to placate the man.

Frowning, Kaimu nodded “there should still be a beer from the other week in the fridge,” he murmured, obviously irate, before going back into the living room. A moment later, Makoto sighed in relief, hearing the TV turn on a moment later, noting that Kaimu seemed to have settled on the news. Makoto hoped he would hear about the results of Haru's race, which he remembered he had no idea of the outcome.

It was a few minutes before Makoto stepped out of the kitchen, a chilled beer in his hand, standing just to the side of Kaimu as he stood behind the sofa, “here, my love,” Makoto whispered softly, holding the uncapped beer bottle out to his lover, who took his with stony silence. Makoto had somewhat expected the reaction, so rather than comment, he leant down a little, threading his fingers though the hair at the base of Kaimu's skull with one hand, the other resting on his lover's shoulder and he pressed a kiss to Kaimu's collar bone and cheek “I'm so sorry,” he said, sincerely, and, Kaimu seemed almost to relax, minutely. “I'll make it up to you,” Makoto promised.

“You will,” Kaimu agreed, still evidently displeased. Makoto couldn't help the disappointed frown on his face at the reaction, but slowly pulled away all the same and retreated back into the kitchen.

Dinner was tense, and while Makoto knew he was at fault, he suspected Kaimu likely had a bad day at the office, although he also thought that Kaimu was in no mood to talk about it. Makoto didn't try to press him. They spoke little, and when they did it was only to confirm that Makoto had indeed handed in his resignation form.

Kaimu only seemed to get more irritated by the fact that Makoto had been told to continue working until a replacement was found.

When dinner was done, Kaimu left the kitchen to allow Makoto time to clean the dishes, calling Makoto over to him when the younger man was finally finished with his chores for the day. “Makoto,” Kaimu said, raising and arm in a familiar gesture, to which Makoto smiled and moved to sit beside Kaimu on the sofa, pressing against the man's side as he wrapped an arm around Makoto's shoulders, cradling him close. “You love me, don't you?” Kaimu asked softly.

Makoto nodded “of course,” he agreed simply, wondering for a moment, where this was going. Kaimu only asked that question when he felt particularly strongly about something.

“Even though I'm getting older?”

“You're not old!” Makoto protested with a concerned frown, sitting up to fix Kaimu with a determined look.

“But one day I will be,” Kaimu said, raising a hand when Makoto opened his mouth to protest again “shut up and let me speak, this is important,” Kaimu scolded and Makoto's mouth snapped shut. “Anyway,” he continued “I know you're upset about this job business, but in the future, I just want to make sure you can care for me and handle my affairs and make life easier on me, all right?” Makoto gave a hesitant nod “It's a big responsibility,” Kaimu explained slowly, “and I know you won't be able to handle both homely obligations and work, so I want you at home.”

Again, Makoto nodded, but...he _could_ handle it...right? “But I-”

“See, today is just a perfect example,” Kaimu said shifting to sit up more in his seat “you can't manage your time and you failed in your duty to me as a lover, didn't you?”

“I-”

“ _Didn't you_?”

Makoto hesitated, glancing down at his lap as he clasped his hands together “y-yes...”

“You know,” Kaimu started, his tone shifting from irritated to contemplative, “I have a friend,” Makoto nodded along to the words, gaze still turned downward guiltily. “He's going out with a woman...maybe a few years younger than you?” he asked, rhetorically. “She's _so obedient_ ,” he told Makoto when he looked up at the words “you could learn a thing or two from her,” Kaimu smiled gently at Makoto then “so, maybe it might be time for the two of you to meet?” when he received no response, Kaimu merely continued with a shrug “but we never know...you might be a bad influence.”

At that, Makoto frowned. He'd never thought he could be a bad influence on anyone...

“But anyway,” Kaimu said, releasing Makoto from his comforting hold, before he glanced from Makoto to his crotch – a motion which Makoto followed. “Don't you have something to make up to me?”

At that, Makoto's eyes widened and he nodded again “R-right,” he said, with a sheepish smile, slipping off the edge of the sofa and onto the floor. He directed that smile up at Kaimu for a moment as the two of them adjusted their positions, allowing Makoto to slip comfortably between Kaimu's legs and palm the other's clothed crotch in his hand. Kaimu sighed and sat back in his chair, enjoying the way Makoto fondled him trough his trousers for a while before he moved to unzip them, fingers roaming over his boxers for a moment before he extracted the man entirely. 

Makoto was no stranger to blowjobs but he had never felt so much pressure to please before. So, rather than hesitate, Makoto got right to it, taking Kaimu in his hand securely and beginning to stroke as Makoto took Kaimu into his mouth. It didn't take long for the room to fill his panting breaths and deep groans and a soft “Makoto...” as the man moaned around his length, quite deliberately. Makoto was simply enjoying the way Kaimu's hands threaded through his hair, his hips rolling forward desperately into Kaimu's foot where it was pressed between the Makoto's legs.

Still the relatively slow pace did not seem to please Kaimu for very long. Makoto soon found his hair held tightly in Kaimu's grasp “More,” he growled, and dutifully, Makoto tried to give it to him, opening his mouth wider and taking Kaimu further into his mouth. Now, Kaimu was not particularly thick, but he was long – longer than Makoto could handle – at last with his mouth. He sucked on the older man harder than before beginning to bob his head faster.

Kaimu, ever unsatisfied, growled again and held Makoto more tightly, ad began to thrust into the younger man's mouth, much to his dismay. Makoto choked and brought his hands up to brace them against Kaimu's legs, shutting his eyes tightly and tilting his head, trying to accommodate the man's length.

“Ah, Makoto...” Kaimu breathed out as he threw his head back, still fucking his lover's face “If there's one thing you're good for it's _this_..” he moaned out, ignoring Makoto's strangled protests as he struggled to breath. 

Thankfully, Kaimu came shortly after and released Makoto, falling back against the sofa with a pleased groan. Makoto fell back, gasping for breath as he choked on the evidence of his lover's satisfaction, bringing a hand up to his mouth as he tried to catch his breath, form shaking somewhat.

Kaimu stood then, looking Makoto over with a little smile “good job,” he praised simply “swallow all of that for me, okay darling?” He asked sweetly as he tucked himself back into his trousers, keeling on the floor before Makoto who had tears springing to his eyes. Kaimu reached out to stroke at Makoto's cheek, “you really did make it up to me,” he praised “but now you have to wait and calm yourself down,” he told Makoto, the slight tent in Makoto's trousers not going unnoticed. “or I won't be happy.”

Makoto nodded, which made Kaimu smile again before he stood “I'm going to take a shower,” he told Makoto, disappearing into the bedroom and into the bathroom. He left Makoto on the floor, having no choice but to swallow what Kaimu had left him before his breath hitched, tears falling unbidden down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I felt like the whole blowjob scene was rushed, but I never like to linger too long on the sexual stuff anyway - this isn't simply smut after all - and I also just wanted to get this chapter out to you.


	3. Rainfall and Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a dull day, and Makoto feels a little drained.

It had been a few weeks since Makoto had quit and already Kaimu seemed happier with the way Makoto was handling their apartment. Shortly after quitting Kaimu had taken Makoto out specifically to buy recipe books, with Makoto made sure to put to use. The apartment was cleaned to oblivion – never a speck of dirt anywhere if Makoto could help it. In fact, he made a point to clean as slowly as humanly possible....which wasn't easy considering that after a while there was hardly anything that needed to be cleaned desperately. 

Makoto did it anyway.

Makoto took messages on the phone for Kaimu when he was out, called his family once a few days ago and tried to fill his free time with something useful. That, however, was much easier said than done. Makoto didn't have that many affairs of his own, save for taking in more of his neighbours washing than ever before. That was Makoto's income...his contribution to the household, not that he could do anything with the money. Kaimu took responsibility financially, and that meant taking care of what Makoto earned.

At present, Makoto was sat with a book in his lap by the window sill of his livingroom, flicking through the pages, reading idly. He had taken care of the cleaning and prepared food or dinner, which only now needed to be cooked at the appropriate time, the sound of the washing machine in the other room muffled by the closed door. The only other sound belonged to the rain that tapped heavily against the window, the constant noise lulling him into a daze. He was so _bored_. 

He was used to having something to occupy his time with. At home, if it wasn't school, Haru or swimming, it was his family. At university, if it wasn't his studies it was Haru or the local swim club, or even his other friends, although he had never rally stayed in touch with any of them to begin with, as much as he liked them. When he left university, it was his job, the children he worked with and Kaimu; the cleaning and cooking and washing, too. Now, though, it was just Kaimu; Kaimu and the housework. 

He loved Kaimu, he really did – but damn it if he didn't feel like he was going stir-crazy. Makoto could almost feel it, in the back of his mind, festering there and wait, just waiting, for him to snap. 

The ring of the telephone jolting Makoto back to reality with a start and a cry of surprise. Placing a bookmark between the pages of his book, Makoto stood and left it on the chair he was sitting on, hurrying over to the phone. “Hello?” He began, pressing the receiver to his ear.

“ _Makoto._ ”

“Kaimu,” Makoto started, a little smile making it's way onto his face, glad in that moment for the distraction. Something to do at last! “Is everything okay? Do you need something?”

“ _No,_ ” Kaimu said with a little bit of a sigh “ _I'll be home late tonight, don't bother waiting up for me, all right?_ ”

“But what will you do about dinner? Do you want me to put something aside for you?” Makoto asked, frowning a little in concern or the other man. “Is...everything okay?”

“ _It's fine,_ ” Kaimu snapped. Makoto could almost imagine the furrowed brow and the downturn of his lips. “ _My boss just needs me to do some work for him before tomorrow. He has a meeting. Honestly, I think this will be good or us, you know?_ ”

Makoto paused, “You mean...are you up for promotion?” Makoto asked, an edge of excitement in his tone.

“ _Maybe,_ ” Kaimu said, amusement in his voice at Makoto's enthusiasm. “ _I can't say for sure._ ”

“Okay,” Makoto said softly, his contented smile at the news almost showing through his tone. “what about dinner, sweetheart?” He asked again, having realised he'd received no answer before.

“ _Leave it,_ ” Kaimu said dismissively “ _I'll get something on my way back home,_ ” Makoto couldn't help but frown at that. “ _Makoto, listen..._ ” Kaimu started slowly.

“Yes?”

“ _If...things do go our way...if I get this promotion,_ ” Kaimu began, almost hesitantly, as if afraid he might jinx it just by speaking about the possibility, “ _then...I'm taking you out,_ ” Kaimu said. Makoto could practically see Kaimu's smile – the charming one, full of promise and love. “ _we'll go to the best place I can find, I promise._ ”

At that, Makoto grinned. It had been a long time since the two of them had gone out on any kind of date. “Okay!” Makoto agreed, excitedly. “Okay...”

“ _Good night, Makoto,_ ” Kaimu offered sweetly, “ _don't wait up for me._ ”

Makoto nodded, despite knowing that Kaimu couldn't see “okay,” he started, “good night, my love,” and with that, he pulled the phone from his ear and hung up. Sighing, Makoto slipped down into the sofa behind him, cordless phone clutched loosely between both hands, a weak smile on his features. A promotion. Think of that. Makoto's mind couldn't help but think about what might have happened eventually if he had stayed at the pool. Perhaps he would have gotten a promotion for something, too. Maybe he would have started taking the children to swimming competitions and maybe, just maybe, they would have win a trophy or two.

He couldn't help but feel a little cold at the notion now, with his excitement at the news ebbing, and not for the first time, wishing he still had his mobile. He had managed to drop it in the pool only a few weeks after he had moved in with Kaimu, and the man had promised to get him a new one, but that had been months and months ago. Honestly, Makoto was used to going without one, now, but he missed the convenience. He wished he could have just heard Haru's voice and called someone without Kaimu blowing up over phone calls on the landline. Makoto had argued at the time that he could take care of his own phone bill, but Kaimu wouldn't hear it. The man was prideful and reused to do anything other than 'look after' Makoto, which admittedly, Makoto had appreciated at the time. Every time Makoto brought the subject of a new mobile up, Kaimu would make excuses. He forgot, he was a little short on money, _don't you want to eat this month, Makoto?_ He would say. He would say that he was too busy and wouldn't have time to get it for a while. 

Makoto even asked to go to a store himself and buy a phone, but Kaimu never liked Makoto leaving the house without him, _it's dangerous and I couldn't lose you, you know that it would destroy me. Do you want to be responsible for that?_ Makoto obeyed, if only to quell Kaimu's fretful irritation. Makoto had only gone out alone a few times since the loss of his phone – Kaimu hated the idea of being out of contact with him even for a short while – when he really felt like he was going crazy and he as getting that way again now. He wanted to go out, maybe get something from a shop, but Kaimu was very careful with the money in the house. Anything that wasn't in his bank account was in a small safe that he kept in the bottom of his wardrobe. Kaimu didn't much like to deal with small change, so he would always put it in donation boxes, or keep the slightly bigger change in the safe, too. _Everything adds up_ , he often said. On the fridge was a shopping list stuck to the fridge by a magnet, wit specific items from specific brands and the price next to them. If, on the rare occasion, Makoto was let out on his own, it was always with exact change and Makoto was always expected to return promptly. 

Lately, Kaimu had been even tighter with the money, telling Makoto only that he was saving up for something. Makoto couldn't deny the curiosity that niggled at him, and had more than once made a half-hearted attempt to see if he could find any clues around the apartment as to what that was.

Heaving another sigh, Makoto stood up, returning the phone to it's rightful place and moving back into the kitchen. He may as well start on his own dinner, even if Kaimu wasn't going to be joining him. He could use the leftovers for breakfast. Kaimu would probably object, but he would also be annoyed if Makoto decided to throw away the excess food he had already finished preparations for. Makoto felt like it was somewhat of a lose-lose situation, but he knew that this time, he couldn't really help it. In a way, Makoto felt like he was almost misbehaving. A little rebellion never hurt anyone, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. I hate when life happens. But thank you for being patient!


	4. Unavailable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rough night Makoto and Kaimu take a trip to the supermarket, but do Makoto's tired eyes deceive him?

Every bit of him ached. The night before Kaimu had come home from work decidedly worked up, and upon discovering that Makoto had to limited himself to the previous night's leftovers, been decidedly less than patient with him. Kaimu hadn't hit him, but Makoto felt as if he may as well have. Kaimu had been rough with him that night – too rough. Kaimu had hissed into his ear about his boss, his stupid _fucking- fuck, Makoto you're so stupid!_ Boss. It hadn't made any sense! When Kaimu had called earlier that day, he had been in such a good mood, but...Makoto dared not ask what had gone wrong.

Now though, Makoto was simply glad to be out of the house, perusing the aisles with Kaimu a few paces ahead of him, turning occasionally to drop something into the basket Makoto had been charged with holding. It had been a while since the pair of them had gone shopping together, and Makoto was immensely relieved that Kaimu seemed to have calmed down considerably. It had been a long time since Kaimu had handled him so roughly that he could still feel his grasp tightly wound around his arms the day after. Honestly, the heavier the basket got as they moved around the supermarket, the harder it was to ignore the strain, but Makoto knew better than to act like a baby. 

The younger man had gotten up before Kaimu as usual, showered as usual, made breakfast as usual, all the while ignoring the throbbing of his backside and the aching in his arms and legs and the feeling he should somehow be ashamed of himself. He recalled one moment during their tryst that he had pleaded with Kaimu to stop. _Don't act like you don't love it._ Yet Kaimu only grabbed him, and turned him onto his hands and knees, and shoved his face into the cushions. Makoto was sure he'd been sobbing, then. There had been momentarily relief when Kaimu had pulled out, and for a foolish moment, Makoto had thought he had finished.

But then, Kaimu pushed back into him, and Makoto remembered being somewhere between pleasure and pain, and moaned through his sobs. _See! Look how beautiful you sound!_ Kaimu had praised, pulling Makoto's hips down to meet his thrusts. It was the perfect angle. Every little movement gave Makoto the kind of pleasure he hadn't felt in a long time. _You sound like a porn star!_ Kaimu had said. Makoto hadn't thought much of anything at the time, but, now...it made him feel terribly dirty. _You want this, don't you_?! 

_Yes_.

Yes, Makoto had moaned, despite himself and the rough treatment. It hurt but yes. Makoto felt like a rag-doll then and he felt like a rag-doll now. He moved where Kaimu moved him, obeyed when he said sit or stand or _come over here and suck me off_. He remembered Kaimu reaching over him as Makoto's mouth encircled his cock, fingering at Makoto's abused hole, toying with it and making the younger man squirm and moan around him. It wasn't long before they were back to fucking.

Kaimu was significantly happier, and had found Makoto in the kitchen that morning, wound his arms around Makoto's waist and whispered sweetly to him. He peppered the younger man's neck with kisses that tickled faintly. Makoto had giggled, which only made Kaimu more affectionate. Kaimu had even mumbled a soft apology into the crook of Makoto's neck, and of course, Makoto's heart melted at the sound of it, and he turned, giving Kaimu a kiss of his own, and whispered: _of course_.

Still, the lingering aches from the night before dominated Makoto's mind. Kaimu had apologised, at least, and recognised that he had done wrong – that should have been enough for Makoto – but something kept the brunette from forgiving the man in his entirety just yet. In fact, the whole affair had made Makoto wary of Kaimu, and not for the first time. Makoto loved the man, but sometimes, he did not know how to sooth his temper.

“Are you even listening, Makoto?”

Blinking out of his reverie, Makoto turned to look at Kaimu owlishly, only to see the man rolling his eyes. “Wha-”

“No, of course not,” Kaimu said. “I said you could go pick out a new set of glassware. Something just for you, okay?”

It took a moment, but Makoto slowly came to realise that the man had meant it to be a gift. He smiled gently at the thought and nodded. “Thank you,” he said. He would have given Kaimu a peck on the lip then, but he knew how the man felt about public displays of affection. He said often that he didn't need anyone else knowing their business. It was a notion Makoto could agree with at least. They needed their privacy. “I'll be back...”

Kaimu turned his back dismissively, and meandered down the aisle, and Makoto turned and went his own way. He raised a hand to run at his tired eyes or a moment, before yawning into it. Glancing up after a moment, Makoto followed the sign above the aisle that read 'kitchenware' in block-y white letters on a blue background. He stopped however, when he laid eyes upon the stationary section in the aisle opposite the one aisle he was in, and blinked. Wandering aimlessly into the aisle, Makoto's eyes perused the countless pens and notepads, sighing wistfully.

His gaze travelled along the shelves until they landed upon a pack of envelopes and for a moment, entertain the notion of writing letters to his friends, since he did not own a phone anymore. Taking a pack into his hand, he turned it, needlessly, to look at the price. The emptiness of his pockets had never mattered to him so much in that moment.

“Tachibana?”

Makoto yelped, scrambling to return the envelope to it's rightful place “I was just looking..!” He started, as he whirled around, only to stop dead in his tracks when green eyes met a familiar turquoise. 

With a brow raised, the man before Makoto stared down at him sternly, and Makoto had never been so happy to see the expression on that particular face in his life. “So look then,” he said.

“Yamazaki-san.” Makoto smiled, his fingers slipping from the shelf, where they had rested upon the enveloped as if he had been reluctant to release them. He took a step back, looking over the man. “It's been a while,” he observed aloud, taking in the man's navy uniform, and the emblem on his arm, the weapon at his hip, beside his badge, and his cap. “I can't believe after all this time, you would become a police officer.”

Sousuke did not reply immediately, apparently still in the habit of watching and thinking before he spoke. “I didn't see why not.”

Makoto thought it best not to bring up the man's shoulder injury – it may still be a sensitive issue. Makoto had learnt long ago that Sousuke guarded his secrets, and approaching them had to be done with extreme caution, or extreme recklessness, depending. Makoto could remember that he had not been all that subtle when he can confronted Sousuke about his injury. It was surprising that Rin had been so blind to it...but then, he never saw anything he didn't particularly want to see. 

Smiling softly, Makoto glance drifted to the stationary beside them, “Makoto.” The sound of his name snapped his attention right back to his friend, and he smiled sheepishly, about to apologise when he was interrupted. “You look tired.”

At that, Makoto laughed, perhaps a little nervously. “I guess I am,” he admitted, “I haven't been-”

“Makoto!”

The brunette whirled around at the voice, looking for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights. “Kaimu!”

His lover hurried up to the pair, frowning. “I'm sorry officer,” he said by way of greeting, taking Makoto by his upper arm. Sousuke looked between the two for a moment before replying, taking in Makoto's somewhat nervous expression. “I hope Makoto hasn't been causing too much trouble for you.”

“None at all,” he said, frowning. Makoto winced at little when turquoise eyes narrowed a little upon Kaimu. For a moment, he just watched the older man, before turning a little and reaching for a small notepad to his left. “I'll get out of your hair.” With that, Sousuke turned to walk away, but not before giving Makoto one last look-over. Makoto was lead away from the stationary aisle by his arm, and managed to give Sousuke a short wave goodbye. He could not hear the words Kaimu was whispering to his old friend, but he could tell the man was not exactly happy.

As Makoto disappeared around the corner, Sousuke turned and left, heading for the cashier with his purchase, frowning all the while. He would have stayed longer with Makoto, but his partner was waiting outside, and more importantly, Makoto was not without company. Exiting the building however, with his purchase in hand several minutes later, Sousuke pulled his phone from his pocket, and stared at it for a moment.

Flipping it open, he turned his attention to his list of contacts and to a number he had not thought to call for several years. Dialling the number, Sousuke hesitated for a moment, before pressing the 'call' button and putting it to his ear. _Sorry_ , an automated female voice began. _The number you have called is not available at this time..._ Sousuke frowned, hanging up abruptly and trying again.

_Sorry, the number you have called is not available at this time, if you like..._

Sousuke hung up again and frowned. He couldn't help but glare at his phone as if it had betrayed him, only to be called back to reality at the sound of a car horn sounding off. Looking up, he saw his partner standing at their car, half hanging out of the doorway, waving him over.

Sighing, Sousuke gave the supermarket one last look, before he turned and returned to his car. He was, after all, on duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the long wait. Busy, busy, busy. You know the drill. I'd say I had too much of a life these days, but I would say it was the exact opposite. I've been cooped up for a while doing too much work and not enough writing.


	5. Reality Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto gets a little tough-lovin', and he begins to see things the way they truly are...right?

The door shut behind them when Kaimu stepped into their apartment behind Makoto. Makoto startled some at the sound, but said nothing, instead taking the shopping bags in his hands into the kitchen, where he set them down on the dining table in the corner of the room. Kaimu joined him soon after, putting down the bags beside the ones Makoto had just relinquished his hold on. “Are you daft, Makoto?” Kaimu asked, seizing his young lover's face in both his hands gently but firmly, forcing Makoto to look at him. “I thought you were in trouble.”

Makoto looked a little contrite at that, shaking his head as best he could. “It's really not like that-”

“I can't help you if you're in jail, sweetheart,” Kaimu interrupted, sounding, for all the world, terrified at the prospect of losing Makoto. “You need to be here with me. For me.” The look in those deep brown eyes gave Makoto pause, and he sighed, deciding to approach the matter carefully. 

Reaching up, Makoto took one of Kaimu's hands into both of his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Kaimu please just listen to me. That police officer-”

“Could have arrested you,” Kaimu interrupted again. “What did you do?”

Makoto recognised that Kaimu should not be under the kind of stress their situation put him in, given that the man's deep, thick, black hair was beginning to grey. He was already stressed enough with work. This was the reason Kaimu had insisted that Makoto stay at home. Makoto understood that now. “Kaimu,” Makoto said softly, running a hand over Kaimu's muscular arm, soothingly. “He was just...” but then Makoto paused. He hadn't seen any of his friends since he and Haru had left university. Sousuke was the first familiar face he had seen in a long while. “He was just asking me where the notepads were, so I showed him. That's all.”

“Really?” Kaimu asked, pulling away from Makoto in his scepticism. “He looked really serious.”

Makoto paused, uncertain. “Resting bitch face?”

Kaimu looked appalled “Makoto!” He exclaimed, shocked. “What kind of language is that for you to use?”

Makoto looked a little bit embarrassed. He hadn't know what else to say. “I'm sorry,” he offered, sheepishly. “But...it really might just be his face. You know? Like, I had this friend in school who always used to look really serious, it didn't help that he had really sharp tee-”

“I don't really care what kind of friends you had, Makoto.” Kaimu snapped. Makoto looked startled at the exclamation. “They aren't the ones who have to deal with the problem of you getting into trouble with the police.”

“I'm sorry,” Makoto said softly. “I mean...I was just trying to make you laugh...”

“This is no laughing matter, Makoto!”

For a moment, Makoto hesitated, frowning. “Kaimu,” he began, his tone soothing, although obviously forced with the strain of trying to remain calm. “I think you're over-reacting just a little bit.”

Kaimu's eyes narrowed then, and Makoto could see the beginnings of crow's feet around his eyes. Kaimu's lips tightened and his brown eyes were thunderous. Makoto had never seen Kaimu so angry before, and it made him shrink away from the other man. He was afraid in that moment, knowing that Kaimu, who was broader, taller and stronger than him, could overpower him. Makoto had never been especially weak, but his strength was utilised for swimming, not fighting. Even beneath Kaimu's navy blue suit jacket, Makoto could make out his muscular physique.

“No,” Kaimu barked, angrily. “Listen to me, Makoto. I _love_ you,” he said. “ _I_ love _you_.” He took a step forward, barely inches from Makoto, his head tilted slightly to catch Makoto's gaze, from where he had lowered his head to avoid Kaimu's gaze. “You're all I have,” he explained. “I'm all _you_ have. No one else is here for you; not your parents, not your friends. Your friends who, by the way, go gallivanting off on trips around the world _without you_ , and you wonder why it annoys me when I see you watching them on television.”

Makoto closed his eyes then, and turned away, only to be stopped by Kaimu, who seized his shoulders and turned him physically around. Makoto struggled against the grasp, trying to push away from his lover, “Kaimu, please stop!” But he didn't, not until he forced Makoto to still, shaking him violently enough that he pushed him into the nearby wall. The impact did not hurt, but Kaimu's closeness was most certainly intimidating. Kaimu's face hovering just above his own was not helping the growing pit in Makoto's stomach nor the sinking feeling in his chest. Makoto could feel the tears falling down his cheeks before he felt the burning in his eyes.

“You're pathetic,” Kaimu growled, and Makoto winced at the harsh tone. “The way you cling to them. Your parents don't visit,” Kaimu started, “your friends don't call, not even that Haru guy, and you're best friends aren't you? He _knows_ where you live, right?”

Makoto wasn't sure if he had ever told Haru, if he was honest with himself. 

“ _Right_ , Makoto?”

“I, uhm...I don't...”

“What's that?” Kaimu asked, goading Makoto on, “speak up, Makoto.”

“I don't know!”

With one last, point shove, Kaimu released Makoto, frowning. “See?” Makoto whimpered, his lips quivering and his legs quaking. “Don't you _dare_ tell me I'm over-reacting when you know all you have is me. Just you remember: I'm the only one that gives a _damn_ about what happens to you. Okay?”

Makoto clutched at a dining chair, slipping into it as he nodded quickly, his shoulders shaking with the effort to restrain his tears.

“ _Okay_?” Kaimu asked again, more sternly this time.

“Y-yes, Kaimu,” Makoto forced out, through a sob.

Satisfied, Kaimu exhaled like he had exercised a demon. He nodded to himself and strolled out of the room, leaving Makoto to slump forwards, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them in an attempt to muffle his sobs. Of course Kaimu cared. He wouldn't be acting the way he was if he didn't. More to the point, he was right. His friends hadn't tried to contact him. Even if he didn't have a mobile phone, he was still in the phonebook, wasn't he? Surely, even Haru had told his friends about Makoto's change of address? His parents didn't have caller ID, so he can't blame them for being unable to give his friends his number. When Makoto called his family, he always just seemed to forget to give it to them...so, even now all of this was his fault, wasn't it? He wondered if his friends even had his e-mail.

He was alone.

Even Sousuke's recent reappearance in his life meant little. They lived in Tokyo. How likely were they to bump into eachother again? It was refreshing to see a familiar face, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing except Kaimu, good old reliable Kaimu. Kaimu who loved him, who kissed him, who held him at night and promised to take him out to dinner. Today was evidence enough that he would protect Makoto as much and as often as he could. Even if it reduced Makoto to tears, he would tell him the truth. 

They often said the truth hurt, right?

Besides...Haru really _had_ left him behind. Haru had enough money that he could have taken Makoto with him, regardless of whether or not Makoto himself could pay for a plane ticket to wherever himself. Haru _chose_ to leave him behind. His _bestfriend_ had _left_ him. For years Makoto bent over backwards for Haru, hadn't he? Helped him carry his burdens, helped him every way he could think of and more, and what does Haru do?

Nothing. He does _nothing_. 

What does Makoto do?

He cries about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has waited so patiently for this update, and thank you to those who have joined me anew! With Essays done with and deadlines out the way, I can only hope to be able to deliver chapters to you more frequently. But who doesn't like a little wait to keep up the suspense, right? *Totally not phishing for time*
> 
> So. Yeah. I..hope you enjoyed the update...


	6. Metropolitan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cash in hand, Makoto takes a walk...

It had been no more than a few weeks since their argument, and Makoto had since put it behind him for the most part, but he still hadn't quite gotten over it. He hadn't said anything about it since and neither had Kaimu – not since the man had apologised the following morning. Kaimu had gone to bed angry, given him the cold shoulder, and Makoto remembered feeling a terrible ache in his chest. The only person in his life that really mattered was ignoring him. He remembered thinking he had to try harder.

When morning came, Kaimu woke him gently, stroking Makoto's cheek and frowning in concern. He could see that his lover's eyes were red-rimmed with sorrow and there were faint bags under his eyes. Clearly he hadn't gotten much sleep. When Makoto's eyes met his, he smiled a little and whispered familiar words: I'm sorry. Shaking his head, Makoto reached out to embrace the older man, whispering those same words back to Kaimu over and again. “I love you,” Makoto had said. “I love you, I'm sorry. I love you.” Kaimu held him tightly and he too shared those words with Makoto, but soon silenced the boy's desperate declarations with a kiss. They pulled apart long enough to catch their breath before they moved right back in to each other. Kaimu was gentle that morning – so gentle – so loving. 

Makoto had strived to do anything and everything Kaimu wanted after that. He didn't speak unless spoken so, didn't watch Haru and Rin on the television, tore out the pages (carefully, of course) in the magazines that Kaimu occasionally brought home with Rei on them. He had been out once with Kaimu since the argument and had avoided looking at the billboard with Nagisa's smiling face on it. He hadn't seen Sousuke since that day at the supermarket. The pair hadn't really had sex since that morning, and frankly, Makoto was getting rather bored. He had taken on nearly all the laundry jobs from the apartments on the three floors above his own, and the hum of the washing machine had become the background noise in Makoto's life that had once been the job of the television. It wasn't unpleasant to him, but when the washing machine fell silent, Makoto began to feel inexplicably lonely. Kaimu never liked the noise, and Makoto always made sure to do as much as he could before Kaimu got home so that the noise would be over before the man arrived. That could have been anywhere between an hour or two minutes, and in that time, Makoto became more eager than ever to have Kaimu home. At least then, the silence wouldn't get to him.

That morning however, Makoto had loaded the washing machine, intent on getting back to work only half an hour after his breakfast. Kaimu had left for work and Makoto was alone again. However, as he opened the box of washing powder, Makoto frowned. He had run out. Searching the cupboard beside the washing machine, Makoto found nothing of use and sighed to himself.

Turning, Makoto moved into the livingroom, picking up the phone off the end table and dialling a familiar number. He bit his lip as he waited, the dial tone ringing in his ears. It took several rings before Makoto hard Kaimu's voice on the other end of the line. “ _Hello_?”

“Kaimu,” Makoto greeted. “It's Makoto.”

Makoto could practically see the smile on Kaimu's face when he next spoke. “ _Knew it as soon as I heard your voice,” he said. “What is it? You know I'm at work_.”

“I'm out of washing powder,” Makoto said, getting straight to the point. “I was hoping to go to the shops and-”

“ _Don't be stupid_ ,” Kaimu interrupted. “ _I'll get some on the way home from work_.”

No way in Hell was Makoto going to spend the entire day enduring silence. “Normally that would be okay,” Makoto started hesitantly. “But I need to get laundry done for tomorrow and I know you don't like the noise,” He lied. It was just one little lie, he reasoned. It wouldn't hurt anyone. 

“ _So, do the laundry in the morning_.”

“Normally I would, but they won't be home in the afternoon...” Makoto said. One little lie.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and for a while, Makoto though Kaimu had hung up the phone. “ _You know I don't like you going out on your own_.”

“I know, my love,” Makoto said, tone pleading. “But I promised...”

On the other end of the line, Kaimu sighed, and Makoto could just imagine Kaimu pinching the bridge of his nose – the way he did when he was stressed. “ _Fine_ ,” he said. “ _Fine. But next time, don't make those sorts of promises_.”

Makoto smiled. “Thank you, Kaimu!” he exclaimed excitedly only to pause a moment later. “What's the combination to the safe this time?”

There was another pause before Kaimu replied, low and serious, lest anyone over hear him in the office. Makoto knew he would change the combination when he returned home regardless, so he didn't really see what the big deal was, but all the same, he respected Kaimu's caution. “ _And remember to phone me as soon as you get home. Don't make me wait for hours worrying about you._ ”

“I'll call,” Makoto promised, with a smile. “I love you,” he said by way of parting.

“ _I love you, too_ ,” Kaimu said before he abruptly hung up the phone.

Putting down the phone, Makoto headed quickly into their bedroom, opening the wardrobe and crouching before the safe, quick to type in the combination. There were a number of things in the safe – financial documents, an expensive watch, birth certificates (Kaimu's and his own), as well as a small cashbox. After a pause, Makoto was careful to hook his fingers around the side of the safe, nails catching the false bottom. He lifted it just enough to reveal the key to the cashbox, taking it with his free hand before he dropped the false bottom back in place. Pulling the cashbox from the confines of the safe, Makoto was quick to unlock it, counting out the money he needed. When he was done, he put the money to one side, his fingers hesitating before they pulled away from the rest of the money. He was quick to close the lid on the box then, locking it securely. There would be no point in trying to take any extra money, even if some of it did belong to him. Kaimu would know, and Makoto knew that he would be furious.

Replacing the key beneath the false bottom of the safe, Makoto replaced the cashbox before putting the money he'd collected in his pocket, before locking the safe shut tightly. Makoto sighed as he stood. It was quite an ordeal just to get enough money for washing powder. He would even have to keep the receipt for later.

Makoto left ten minutes later, a spare key in one pocket and money in the other. He had never been more relieved to step out of his apartment.

 

 

Half an hour later Makoto arrived at the supermarket. It was the one he had met Sousuke in all those weeks ago. He had chosen that supermarket in particular because while it wasn't the closest shop to him, he rather wanted the walk. Without a phone or music, Makoto was occupied with the life around him. It was a relief, and he wondered why he would have wanted to block it out at all in the past.

Still, he took up a basket as he entered, despite needing only one item. Although he had no reason to talk to them, Makoto smiled politely whenever his gaze met that of another person. It was relaxing, to say the least, to shop without Kaimu – it was a horrible thing to think, but there was truth in it that Makoto couldn't deny. For a moment, Makoto was overcome with this inexplicable urge to buy something for Kaimu in apology, but knew it would not go down well even if he did have extra money. Kaimu disliked frivolity.

It didn't take long for Makoto find the washing up powder he usually bought, putting it in his shopping basket and heading forwards the cashiers. Makoto watched the floor as he went, stopping only when he saw the greeting card aisle, where he had met Sousuke before. Makoto had hoped to find Sousuke there again, but his heart sank a little in disappointment when he was not. So, as they had in his last visit, Makoto's eyes landed upon the envelopes again, and he bit his lips. He moved over to the shelf, quick to take a packet into his hands, turning it over to look at the price, just one more time.

He returned them to the shelf after a long pause and sighed quietly, turning back continuing on to the cashiers. It took him a moment to register the person in front of him in the queue, once he had chosen his line, but when he did, his eyes widened. “S-Sousuke?”

The man in question turned, and Makoto couldn't help the faint smile that he gave his friend in that moment. Sousuke nodded, “Tachibana.” Makoto didn't even mind the stoicism in which he was regarded, but it was when Sousuke's attention was called back t the cashier, with the woman at the counter listing off the price owed that he felt that familiar sinking in his chest. Still, he watched quietly as Sousuke fumbled for his wallet, Makoto clearly having distracted him enough that the money in it simply would no co-operate. Judging by the faint downturn of Sousuke's lips and the way he wouldn't quite meet the cashier's eye, Makoto had managed to embarrass him.

Sousuke didn't look at him again until he'd left the queue, standing off to the side, his back leaning against the wall as he waiting for Makoto to finish paying. Honestly, Makoto was a little disheartened by the way Sousuke had seemingly tried to ignore him to notice, but was pleasantly surprised to see Sousuke still hanging around. Sousuke was sipping at a bottle of water as Makoto approached.

“Caught me off-guard there,” Sousuke said, to which Makoto smiled a little.

“I'm sorry,” He offered. “But in fairness you did the same to me.”

Sousuke hummed and nodded after a moment. “I guess so.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence, and when Makoto noticed Sousuke's eyes drifting towards the supermarket exit, he piped up quickly, reaching out as if to touch Sousuke's arm to stop him from leaving. “Y-you're in Tokyo!”

Raising a brow, Sousuke turned to look at Makoto again. “That does seem to be the case.”

“No,” Makoto said, with an embarrassed smile “I just...I thought you were still in Iwatobi.”

Sousuke shrugged. “I was. I put in for a transfer. You know as well as I do nothing much happens there.”

“Bored?”

“A little,” Sousuke said. “Besides, Momotarou and Nitori can be as big a handful as they ever were, sometimes.” Sousuke pushed off the wall then, and gestured to the exit. Makoto and Sousuke made their way over slowly, shopping in hand.

Makoto chuckled softly, glancing up just in time to see Sousuke's features softly a little as he smiled, amused. “Tired of baby-sitting?”

“Not much need for babysitting these days, but still...I don't know. I think I just needed a change.”

“I know what you mean,” Makoto said, looking at the ground as he spoke.

There was a pause as the par exited out into the car park. “You still look tired.”

Makoto blinked glancing up at Sousuke for a moment before he smiled sheepishly. “Just busy I guess.”

“Work?”

Makoto shook his head. “No, I don't work...well, I mean, I did, but not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I...needed a change, I guess.”

Sousuke watched him for a moment, before he frowned and stepped forwards, halting Makoto in his steps as he turned on his feel and held an arm out in front of Makoto. “I tried to call you.”

Makoto looked startled. “What?”

“The day we met here,” Sousuke clarified, his expression unreadable. “I couldn't get through. Do you have a new number?”

“Oh, no. I...don't have a phone,” Makoto said slowly. “Anymore...”

Sousuke frowned at that, his brows knitting together. “Your home number?”

Makoto hesitated a moment before shrugging. “It...doesn't work...the phone, I mean. I need to buy a replacement.”

“E-mail?”

“Same as ever, but I don't really have a computer,” Makoto explained hesitantly, blushing slightly. It felt for a moment as if he were being interrogated. “So I don't have regular access to one...who knows when I would get back to you.”

“Did you have to sell it to make rent or something?”

Makoto paused. “Y-yes.”

Sousuke frowned. “Look, if you're having trouble-”

“R-really, I'm fine. It was just the once, and I have my, uhm. My boyfriend, now,” Makoto interrupted quickly. “We're fine. He makes enough for the both of us to live comfortably.”

“...And you can't get a new laptop or something?” Sousuke asked sceptically, tilting his head to the side.

For a moment, Makoto felt an inexplicable spike of panic pierce his heart. “W-well, comfortably enough.”

After a moment, Sousuke nodded, and relief washed over Makoto. Makoto wasn't really lying about the money. Laptops were expensive, and they were comfortable, but they weren't living on the breadline...not really.

Frowning, Sousuke moved to put his water bottle back in his shopping bag. Reaching into his pocket, pulling out a notepad with his free hand and moving for the pen in his breast pocket. Looping the handle of his shopping bag around his wrist and held the notepad in his now-empty palm, he opened it and began to scribble something on the paper. “Here,” he said, holding out the piece of paper for Makoto to take. “My mobile and my work number,” he explained. “Since it'll be hard for me to get in touch, I guess I'll leave it in your hands.”

Makoto hesitated almost visibly, before he took the number. “All right,” he conceded. “Thank you, Sousuke.” Then he paused. “Oh,” he said, curious. “What precinct do you work at?”

Sousuke smiled. “Metropolitan.”

Makoto nodded, returning the faint smile with one of his own. “Good to know...”

“Yeah...” Sousuke said slowly. “Listen, I have to get back to work, but...maybe we should meet up some time?”

Again, panic filled Makoto's chest, and he smiled. “I'll get back to you...”

Sousuke wandered back a few steps, nodding, about to turn before he paused. “Your boyfriend...”

Makoto tensed a little at the mention of him. “Yes?”

“He that guy you were with before?”

Makoto nodded slowly. 

“He seemed kind of...upset before.”

“Oh,” Makoto said, with a meek smile, waving off Sousuke's concern. “Don't worry about that. He was just worried I'd gotten in trouble. He just cares a lot, you know?”

At that, Sousuke looked thoughtful, before he nodded. “All right then,” he said. “I guess I'll see you around.”

Makoto nodded, smiling a little. “See you,” Makoto said, waving as Sousuke turned, waving over his shoulder. Makoto watched his friend go for a while before he hurried on his own way. It was late afternoon, and now that he thought about it, he had dallied for much longer than he had intended.

 

 

Once Makoto arrived home he slipped off his shoes and dropped the washing powder in the laundry room, before he hurried over to the telephone, dialling Kaimu's number quickly. Suffice it to say that the man had not been pleased. Clearly Makoto had taken much too long. Kaimu was worried. It took some time for Makoto to placate him, and promised him something special for dinner. Kaimu promised that he had something special of his own in mind. Judging by the tone, of course, Makoto realised that Kaimu meant something a little more physical.

Still, when at last Makoto hung up the phone, he wandered into the kitchen, pulling the piece of paper that Sousuke had given him from his pocket, and stared down at the numbers. Biting his lip, Makoto crumpled the paper in his palm and turned, quick to toss it in the nearby bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. I hope you enjoyed this chapter...I rather enjoyed writing it.


	7. Lock and Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto is introduced to a new kind of fury. Sousuke is very much occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for the lateness of this chapter. I told you all not to hold anything I said against me! I found my summer to be...very distracting. Also. World of Warcraft has come back into my life and I regret my life-choices.

When morning came, Makoto arose like clockwork. It was a Friday, which meant that it was time to return and collect washing from his neighbours. Waking was the easy part, but rolling out of bed proved impossible when Makoto felt Kaimu's arm wrapped firmly around his midsection. Kaimu groan softly in protest at the movement, holding Makoto tighter and shifting so that he was half lying on top of his young lover.

Makoto closed his eyes for a moment, sighing softly to himself as he moved to place his hand over the back of Kaimu's own, trying to thread his fingers through the tense digits. Makoto came to the conclusion that Kaimu was in fact awake, but unwilling to move. “You have work...” Makoto half mumbled into the cushion beneath his head.

“What a thing to say to me in the morning,” Kaimu replied, muttering into Makoto's ear. He did move, though, but not the way Makoto was expecting. Releasing Makoto, Kaimu took hold of his hips and turned him onto his front. “Come on,” Kaimu said simply.

Obediently, Makoto raised his hips and spread his legs, feeling Kaimu shifting behind him. Makoto's hands found their way beneath the pillow, supporting his head. Makoto's eyes fixed themselves upon the curtains, watching them as they blocked the sunlight from view. It was too dark.

“I was worried sick about you yesterday,” Kaimu said, pausing to spread Makoto's ass cheeks. He spit between them, using his thumb to spread it across his tight hole. Makoto squirmed and gasped at the intrusion, when he felt Kaimu's thumb entering him. Makoto could tell that whatever he was in for would not be pleasant. After a moment, however, Kaimu sighed and retracted his hands, got off the bed and stood up. “But you're right. We don't have time to do anything about that right now,” he said, before smacking Makoto's ass in a way that was meant to be a playful, passing gesture as he disappeared into the bathroom. Makoto flinched a little at the contact and slumped back down onto the bed with a shaky sigh. The sting of the blow was a little more than Makoto had been expecting.

A few minutes later, Makoto himself slipped off the bed, gathering his pyjama bottoms, which had been discarded there the night before, and a random t-shirt that had been flung on the floor the previous night as well. The previous night had been somewhat rough, and Makoto knew that Kaimu was still angry with him, so he merely needed to wait until he had worked it out of his system.

Ten minutes later found Makoto in the kitchen, preparing Kaimu's breakfast and lunch. Makoto had hesitated at first, but decided then to make enough for one person. If Kaimu refused breakfast, as he had done so many time recently, at least Makoto could eat it without being wasteful, which he supposed Kaimu would appreciate in the long-run. 

When at last Kaimu emerged from their bedroom, he was dressed and his hair, beginning to grey ever so slightly, was combed back neatly. He approached Makoto with a sweet smile, wrapping one arm around Makoto's hips as he placed the last of the plates on the table, ready for Kaimu. “Beautiful,” Kaimu said, by way of praise.

Makoto paused. “Thank you...” Makoto couldn't help but smile. It had been a while since Kaimu complimented him.

“It actually looks edible today,” Kaimu said, releasing his hold on Makoto and moving to take a seat.

“Oh, ”Makoto's heart sank. “I, um...” for a moment, Makoto floundered for a response before simply nodding slightly. “Yeah.”

As Kaimu eats, Makoto turns around, grabbing a cloth. Wiping down the counter, Makoto began to feel distinctly out of place. He felt as if he were intruding, that Kaimu would rather be left alone with his food. 

“Where is your breakfast?” Kaimu asked after several minutes.

Makoto was silent before a moment, before supply a quiet explanation. “I thought I would wait until you were finished-”

“Look at me when I'm talking to you,” Kaimu said, and Makoto obeyed, turning to face Kaimu, who had abandoned his food in favour of pushing his chair out and turning in it to look at Makoto properly. Makoto leaned back against the counter, his shoulders slumped forward, obviously nervous. “So?”

“I thought I would wait-”

“Until I was finished,” Kaimu interrupted with a frown. He stood up abruptly and Makoto flinched, thinking that Kaimu might charge at him again. “Why?”

“I-I thought you might not eat it,” Makoto supplied hurriedly. “I didn't want to be wasteful.”

“So what? You'd rather act like a tramp than eat breakfast with me?”

“No! No, what wasn't what I meant-”

“You know what?” Kaimu said abruptly, moving to pick up his plate on half eaten boiled rice and fish. “Fine,” he said, walking pointedly to the bin, holding the plate above it. “You want to be a tramp? You can be a tramp.” He turned the plate then, the food fall into the bin, with a faint thump.

“Kai-”

Storming over to Makoto, he tossed the dish into the sink, and Makoto winced, terrified and somehow impressed that it didn't break. He would no doubt had been blamed for that too, with Kaimu in his current mood. Kaimu took hold of Makoto shirt and he yelped as he was yanked forward, cringing when Kaimu turned him around, only to grab him roughly by the back of the neck and escorted none too gently to the bin. “Go on then,” Kaimu demand, raising a foot to kick Makoto in the back of the knee. Makoto cried out as he fell to the floor, his head being forced closer to the bin before he knew it. “Eat your breakfast.”

Makoto was shaking now, and he shook his head, his chest tight with fear and too afraid to open his mouth. He shook his head vehemently, only to break out into a loud half-sob as he screamed into the bin when Kaimu growled and forced his head closer to the bin. “Eat it! Or I swear, you will not be eating the rest of the day!”

Makoto shook his head again, speaking through a petrified sob “K-Kaimu, please..!”

It was then that Kaimu released Makoto's neck, but yanked him quickly to his feet. “Come with me,” he demanded sternly, and Makoto was too disoriented, too frightened to do anything but stumbled after him. It didn't take long for them to reach their bedroom. Kaimu pushed Makoto into it before throwing the younger man onto the bed.

Makoto landed on it heavily, watching through his tears as Kaimu turned, rummaging through one of the drawer of the vanity table beside the door. When he saw Kaimu retrieve a set of keys, his eyes widened. Those were the master keys to every room in the apartment. “Kaimu...?” Makoto asked, his voice thick with grief and fear. He sat up just a little more as if to silently urge Kaimu to put them back.

“I've told you before,” Kaimu said sternly as he moved out of the room. Makoto stood up, quickly. “Don't ever disobey me.” He shut the door hurriedly as Makoto lunged for the door.

“Kaimu!” He shouted, his hands closing around the door handle – too late. He heard the click of the lock before he could do anything about it. “Kaimu!” He cried, his palm banging against the door as he tried to get the man's attention. “Kaimu, please! Sorry!” He tried desperately. “I-I'm sorry. Let me out, plea-”

Then, he heard the distant, but very pointed sound of a door slamming. 

 

 

 

Elsewhere, Sousuke stood inside a flat in an apartment complex on the third floor. Forensics milled about the room purposefully, side-stepping shards of glass from a shattered lampshade where it lay on the floor. He listened to the occupants as they spoke, their tones worried. There had been a break-in. The door handle on the front door was broken and the property damage suggested a somewhat vigorous search, or merely a rushed one.

Most break-ins were like that. It would be impressive if they actually found any usable prints that did not already belong to the occupants. He took their statements.

His phone burned a hole in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know if anyone found any part of that too graphic, and if they think I should up the rating because of it.
> 
> I also apologise for how short this chapter is, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless.


	8. Bird Cage, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one of two. Makoto endeavours to distract himself. Sousuke contemplates what friendship really means.

Makoto waited, sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at the door. The curtains were drawn and he sat in the dim light, only a little light seeping into the room. He was constantly plagued by the thought that Kaimu would come home early and let him out of the room. When he realised that would not be happening, several hours later, Makoto got slowly to his feet, and began to clean. He made the bed, went into the bathroom and cleaned the toilet, the sink and the shower head. He reorganised their medicine cabinet, behind the mirror, and their toiletries cupboard which mounted the wall beside the bathroom door. He returned the cleaning products to the cupboard under the sink and slunk out of the room, when the chemicals in the air began to make him faint.

He opened the window to let the dizzying scent out, although the way in which it opened disallowed any attempt to crawl through it. The traffic and the people milled about below, ignorant of his situation, although he did not feel he could draw attention to himself even if he wanted to. Their apartment was much too high up even to try.

A few more hours and Makoto was back in the bathroom, his hair greasy and he felt like he smelt of cleaning fluids. So, he hopped in the shower, the heat on high. He spent as long as he could in there, washing his hair, shaving his legs, as Kaimu preferred that he did (although he was already in the habit from his years of swimming). When he was through he took his moisturiser from the cupboard beneath the sink and proceeded to spend as long as possible properly moisturising every bit of himself that he could reach. He blow-dried his hair and when he was done he donned his dressing gown and sat in front of the vanity mirror in the corner of the room. The digital clock on the night-stand indicated that it was late afternoon, and if Kaimu did not decide to stay late as work or go out with his friends, then he would be home in a few short hours. 

Makoto was almost proud of himself for wasting the day away so efficiently. Well, productively. Efficiency would imply that he did all his 'chores' as quickly as he could. Although, now that he had nothing to do, Makoto had begun to feel his hunger. His stomach growled, and Makoto sighed slowly, leaning forwards onto the table in front of him and burying his face in his hands. Kaimu had never done a thing like this before. Makoto didn't know what the older man wanted any more. He seemed impossible to satisfy unless Makoto spread his legs. But, Kaimu loved him – he had to- or else he wouldn't have reacted so strongly when Makoto spoke to Sousuke, or when Makoto decided not to eat with him. He was just jealous, he wanted Makoto by his side, even in the smallest of ways.

That was it. It had to be.

He was just proving a point, Makoto thought to himself as his shoulders shook with barely restrained tears. It took a moment, but after taking a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling slowly as he let the air out of his lungs, Makoto composed himself. He had cried enough already. He would not be bleary-eyed when Kaimu came home.

So, making that decision, Makoto stood moved to his bedside table and retrieved a book that lay there, which he had begun to read, although it had been neglected for months; he reclined on his bed and flipped his the most recent chapter and read in peace. Perhaps this punishment was more of a blessing than he realised. Usually he was busy enough with the household chores and his laundry service and keeping Kaimu happy that by the end of the day he was often too tired to do much else but sleep.

As time passed, Makoto relaxed further and further into his pillows, smiling faintly when something in his book amused him. Soon enough however, he slipped into sleep, his book resting on his chest, his fingers barely managing to keep his current page marked.

 

 

Elsewhere, Sousuke sat at his desk. His lunch hour had started and finished two hours ago and a bento box sat neglected on the end of the desk, pushed aside to make way for the paperwork he was poring over. The bento box sat precariously on the edge, barely touched and forgotten, and a single careless nudge would send it tumbling to the ground. He was not on the beat at the moment, but that didn't mean he couldn't catch up on case files. 

Sousuke leant back, running a hand down his face and groaning softly to himself. No witnesses had come up regarding the robbery he had attended to just the other day, and security camera footage proved useless. All they had turned up was someone in a black hooded coat, who was most likely a man, given his physical stature. They had pulled a few finger prints – luckily the thief hadn't been wearing gloves, but the lack of prints in the database meant he was a new offender. If he struck again, they would be able to match his finger prints, but until then, all they could really do was wait. If someone got a good look at him, they would be able to find him in no time.

Hearing the door to the office open with a dull click, Sousuke glanced up at his partner. He was shorter than the ex-swimmer, with dark eyes and hair. He smiled at Sousuke softly, although in that moment Sousuke couldn't help but think of Makoto's smile, and how much sweeter it used to be. He used to hate Makoto's smile, but since meeting him again, it seemed...different. Sousuke couldn't quite get a handle on what could have happened to make Makoto change so distinctly. Sousuke would have called the change a drastic one, except it really wasn't. It was a change in his demeanour, but his attitude seemed to remain more or less the same. Perhaps it was just awkward seeing each other after so long? 

After moving to Tokyo, Sousuke had never really expected to just run into an old friend. He and Rin spoke on the phone most often, but most of the others, save for Aiichiro did not contact him as much. He didn't hold it against them. They all had lives to lead now. He knew that for a while Nagisa had harboured some romantic notion that they would all live and work in the same town and be friends for the rest of their lives. 

It seemed things didn't work out that way after all.

“Hello...?” Sousuke heard, and came back to himself, looking up at his partner quickly. “Away with the fairies again?” His partner asked.

“Izanagi,” Sousuke said, standing up slowly, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he glanced at the clock. It was time they started their patrol. 

“I told you to call me Hideki,” he said, pointedly, pulling car keys from his pocket. “We're partners. I really think we should.”

Sousuke didn't react except to hum in acknowledgement, as he returned his files into his desk. The bento box fell as he pulled a file from beneath it, and he dropped the papers in and attempt to catch it, but Hideki got their first. He swooped in, snatching the box out of the air and holding it between two hands, smiling proudly at Sousuke. “I'll never be this cool again,” he said in an excited whisper. None of the food had even touched the floor. “And I have a witness!” Sousuke shook his head in response before turning to leave. Hideki placed the bento on the desk and followed him quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just thought I'd give you a little something around Christmas time, but I haven't had much time to write the whole thing, so I'm giving it to you in two parts. Expect the next part some time after New Year's day. 
> 
> And Just a little something:  
> 'Izanagi' = Male who invites.  
> 'Hideki' = Splendid opportunity.
> 
> Take that any way you wish.


	9. Bird Cage, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto awakes to a nice surprise?

Makoto awoke slowly, to the sensation of fingers running through his hair gently. He hummed pleasantly, enjoying the touch, drowsy and content. “Evening beautiful,” he heard, Kaimu's familiar voice sweet and soft. Makoto's eye fluttered open and more a moment, he merely basked in the attention, gazing sightlessly at Kaimu's leg, which was level with his face. 

Of course, Makoto blinked, finally registering what he was seeing, what he was feeling and hearing. “Kaimu!” he shouted, sitting up abruptly, and flinging himself into Kaimu's waiting arms. “I'm sorry,” he said hastily, one arm wrapped securely around Kaimu's shoulder and the fingers in his free hand laced themselves into Kaimu's steadily greying hair. “I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry-”

He was silenced when Kaimu began to shush him tenderly, rocking him back and forth as if he were a child. “It's okay,” he whispered, “it's okay. You learnt didn't you?” he asked, quietly, and continued when he felt Makoto's frantic nodding against his shoulder. “You know I didn't want to do this to you, right?” Again, Makoto nodded. Kaimu's hand stroked up and down Makoto's back soothingly, and for a while the pair sat in silence. “You're so beautiful, Makoto,” Kaimu whispered. “But you're so wilful,” he started and Makoto stilled, still clinging to Kaimu as if his life depended on it. “But that's okay,” he said. “You've learnt now.”

Again Makoto nodded. “I love you,” he whispered, his throat tight, and for a moment felt the beginnings of tears spring to his eyes. “I love you, I love you. Please don't do this to me again, please, please, please-”

At that, Kaimu shifted, pushing Makoto away and holding him at arm's length, and forcing Makoto to loosen his grip on his lover. “That depends on how stupid you are,” Kaimu warned, his tone stern for the first time since Makoto woke. It made him flinch. “You are beautiful, Makoto,” Kaimu began to say, relaxing his hold on Makoto's arms slightly. His hand began to wonder, slipping between the folds of Makoto's robe, where it rested against Makoto's hip, and exposed Makoto's nakedness. “You're my beautiful boy, but you're so damn stupid sometimes, it's a wonder how you got by without me.”

Saying nothing for the moment, Makoto reached forward, loosening Kaimu's tie and undoing it slowly, his fingers very deliberately running down Kaimu's chest as he did so. “I'm sorry,” Makoto whispered. It was not the first time Kaimu had called him stupid, and in truth sometimes he felt that way. He was wrong to have assumed Kaimu wouldn't want to eat with him. He was wrong to think Kaimu didn't love him. He was wrong to think Kaimu was trying to smother him.

Pushing aside Makoto's robe further, allowing it to fall completely open, Kaimu pulled Makoto onto his lap. Makoto straddled him obediently, undoing Kaimu's tie and tossing it to one side. “You know you're mine, don't you?” Kaimu said, his hands trailing up Makoto's sides so lightly that it tickled tantalisingly.

“All yours,” Makoto replies breathlessly, biting his lip and slowly unbuttoning Kaimu's white shirt, fingers brushing against the bare flesh beneath as he did so. Makoto was desperate for Kaimu's approval, even letting the possessive tone in Kaimu's voice wash over him. He found it comforting now, more than ever. Normally, it would have bothered him, but angering Kaimu so much that he had been forced to lock Makoto into their room gave Makoto some much needed perspective. He needed Kaimu. Needed the older man to love him. He wanted Kaimu's approval.

Makoto slid Kaimu's shirt off his back. Kaimu had always been toned, from all the swimming he had done, and the time he spent in the gym. Kaimu had always said that it released the kind of tension in him that Makoto could not handle. The kind he needed to sweat out. His lover was approaching his thirties, which could be seen in the beginning of the faint lines around his eyes and the lines across his forehead, from all the stress. Makoto was supposed to ease said stress, but all he had done lately as aggravate it. Aggravate Kaimu. 

Kaimu captured Makoto's lips in his own suddenly, and with almost violent passion. Makoto melted into it, wrapping his arms around Kaimu's neck and shifting, to roll his hips into Kaimu's own, his naked cock rubbing against Kaimu's clothed one. “Do you love me?” Kaimu asked, against Makoto's lips. 

“Y-yes,” Makoto breathed, peppering Kaimu's lips with smaller kisses between words as Kaimu continued to speak.

“You belong to me, don't you?” He asked, reaching behind Makoto as groping Makoto's backside, causing his young lover to groan out a barely distinguishable affirmative. “You're mine, aren't you?” He continued, reaching back further to slip a finger into Makoto, who groaned again as he nodded. “Say it.”

“Y-yes,” Makoto moaned. “Yes, I am.”

Makoto reached between them, arching as Kaimu slipped another finger into him, barely waiting a moment for him to adjust before he began to thrust his fingers into Makoto. Makoto unzipped Kaimu's trousers then, and he slipped his hand under the waistband of his underwear, wrapping it around Kaimu's steadily already hard member. Kaimu groaned, and Makoto felt distinctly proud of himself for eliciting such a noise for just a moment. It seemed like Kaimu rarely engaged in foreplay anymore.

“Y-you're mine, right?” Makoto murmured against Kaimu's lips as he felt Kaimu kick off his shoes. “I love you,” he groaned.

“I know,” Kaimu murmured, pulling his fingers out of Makoto and shifting to throw Makoto off him and onto the bed. Makoto cried out a little in surprise. He did not even have time to right himself before Kaimu grabbed his hips, and positioned Makoto onto his hands and knees, pushing Makoto's robe to one side and completely exposing his ass. Makoto tried to say something at the treatment, but his words were interrupted by the sound of his own groan as Kaimu pushed into Makoto without much more preamble. “G-god, I love you, M-Makoto,” Kaimu groaned as he began to move, without waiting for Makoto to adjust. “You always feel so good!”

Makoto braced himself on his elbows, face buried on the mattress, clinging to the sheets tightly. He moaned, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. Any words Makoto tried to say were immediately swallowed by his moans. He would have reached back to pleasure himself but he knew Kaimu preferred that he didn't. Of course, Kaimu made it good, so good Makoto knew he wouldn't have to touch himself. He hammered home on that spot that made Makoto moan like a whore. Kaimu had told him once that these were the noises that would turn people off him, assume he was a slut – not worth their time or loyalty or their love. Kaimu knew better than they did, he had said. I love you, he'd said. 

Makoto came first with a high-pitched moan followed swiftly by Kaimu, who groaned. 

The pair panted raggedly, and Makoto slipped down onto the mattress, Kaimu slipping out of him as he did so. Makoto shifted, somewhat sore, turning his head to look at Kaimu with wide emerald eyes, his lips plump and read from their kisses. He realised with a start, as Kaimu stood zipping up his trousers that his lover had not even bothered to undress – had not even bothered to undress him.

Biting his lip, Makoto sat up slowly, gathering his bathrobe and wrapping it around him more securely, feeling in that moment, particularly dirty. Kaimu had never done this before. But, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, was it? He was just eager, Makoto reasoned to himself. There was no reason for him to feel uncomfortable.

Unclean.

“Kaimu,” Makoto started quietly, waiting for the older man to turn and face him before. “Can...can I go and eat now?”

“We'll talk about that tomorrow,” Kaimu replied simply as he turned and headed for the bedroom door. “Just go back to bed for now, okay?” he said, gesturing at the bed nonchalantly. “I'll join you later.”

And with that, Kaimu closed the door on Makoto once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I sure did promise a chapter after New Years...yeap. That sure was a thing I did. And...in my defence, this is still after New Years. Just...not when any of us, including myself wanted, so I do apologise for that.
> 
> There was uni and drama and house moving drama and more drama. I'm a writer. I don't live drama, I write it. This is abnormal and I don't like it.


	10. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning goes off without a hitch, and that's good. That's good...right?

When morning came, Makoto carefully extracted himself from Kaimu's embrace and slipped out of bed, donning his dressing gown as he left the room. His stomach was still empty from the night before, but he hoped to change that soon. Making breakfast was a simple affair, with the regular spread – and enough for two. This time, Makoto would eat with his lover. He had even taken extra care with the omelettes that morning I the hopes that Kaimu would eat his fill. 

Makoto bustled around the kitchen with practised ease, content for the most part, and relaxed in a way he hadn't been for a while. He and Kaimu had made up the night before and Makoto believed he had come out of it better. When Kaimu had at last come to bed for the evening, he held Makoto in his arms and they simply lay there in silence, and Kaimu's soft touches seemed to hark back to the early days of their relationship, when Makoto was like nothing more than a delicate porcelain statue to the older man. Kaimu peppered Makoto's skin with soft kisses and Makoto leaned into him, cuddling closer as time went by and eventually the two of them fell asleep. He was determined to make their morning a good one. 

With the food served up and waiting for Kaimu on the table, Makoto set about cleaning up after himself, scooping up eggshells into his hands and moving over to the bin, noting that it was getting rather full as he opened it and reminded himself to take out the trash later that day. Pausing abruptly as he moved to toss the eggshells into the bin, a shell slipped from his hand, landing beside an old piece of paper that Makoto had spotted and hadn't thought about it since he had decided to throw it away. 

Makoto reached for the piece of paper thoughtlessly with his free hand, dumping the rest of the eggs in the bin as he turned away, unravelling the crumpled up paper. The numbers, Makoto realised with a jolt of apprehension, were smudged, but just about legible. He hadn't thought about Sousuke for for two days, and the thought of having these phone numbers in his hand sent a jolt of fear down his spine. 

“Makoto,” he jumped at the sound of Kaimu's voice drifting in from the other room, and glanced around quickly, lurching towards the breakfast table, and sliding the paper beneath on of the plates hurriedly. “Is breakfast ready? I smells good.”

“Y-” Makoto paused to take a breath and calm his nerves. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat and rushing over to the sink to wash his hands as Kaimu entered the room. “Take a seat when you're ready, my love,” he said softly, grabbing a tea towel and turning to regard his lover with a sweet smile, trying to hide his nerves. 

Frowning Kaimu stepped forwards, reaching up to take Makoto's chin in his thumb and forefinger, looking over him critically. “Is something the matter?” he asked. “you're sweating...and you look flushed.” Makoto seemed to redden further at the statement. 

“It's nothing,” he said, forcing a perplexed smile. “It's just a little hot in here, I think,” he said. “Standing over the stove too long...”

There was a brief pause before Kaimu nodded and released Makoto long enough to give him a gentle peck on the lips before he turned and moved to sit at his usual seat, and began helping himself to his breakfast. Makoto was no far behind him, slipping into his chair and beginning to eat himself. It felt nice, he thought, to be eating after so long, but he made sure to keep from simply shovelling food into his face. He didn't want to appear so ungrateful as to look like a starving tramp.

For a time, the two of them sat in companionable silence, “I'll be home a little later tonight,” Kaimu said, for once seeming to find no fault in the spread before him. “I have to put in some overtime...incompetent interns.”

“Oh,” Makoto said, with a faint frown. “Well, I'll make diner and put some aside for you,” he said slowly, sounding faintly concerned. “Could no-one else cover for you?”

“No,” he said with a huff. “I asked around before I offered up my time,” he explained, seeming for a moment, a little frustrated with Makoto.

“Oh, yes,” Makoto started up. “I'm sorry, I just...miss you when you're at work. I get a bit lonely.”

“Only a bit?” Kaimu asked, with a raised brow and a small teasing smirk playing across his lips. 

Blushing slightly, “Well,” he said slowly. “I lot,” he said for clarification. It had been a long time since he had seen that expression on Kaimu's face. In the earlier days on their relationship, it usually meant Kaimu was feeling more on the frisky side of mischievous.

They lapsed into silence after that and finished their eating, but Kaimu seemed determined to surprise Makoto with his actions that morning. “Let me take these,” he said as he stood, reaching to pick up their plate, at which point Makoto caught a glimpse of the piece of paper beneath Kaimu's plate, and he blanched. 

“No!” he said, quite harried, reaching across and placing a hand over Kaimu's wrist gently, causing the man to halt in his movements abruptly. “No,” he repeated, softly. “Let me,” he said, “I'll clean up and finish packing your lunch while you get your coat as usual, hm?” he said, just barely holding back his sigh of relief as Kaimu released the plates once more. 

“...All right,” Kaimu said slowly as Makoto stood. He pressed a soft kiss to Kaimu's lips before he left to go and retrieve his coat. He could tell that Kaimu was more than a little taken aback at the sudden exclamation, but he would rather that than be found to be hiding a strange set on phone numbers. Makoto only wished he had paid attention to which plate he had hidden the note under. But of course, would have been equally likely to have been discovered under his own plate. Who knows what Kaimu might have done if he had insisted on cleaning up. 

In hindsight, he should have hidden the note underneath the toaster. On the subject of the toaster, however, Makoto retrieved the note quickly from beneath the plate and slide it beneath the aforementioned object before he gathered the plates and put them in the sink to be washed up later, and set about preparing Kaimu's lunch.

It wasn't long before Kaimu returned, wrapping his arms around Makoto's waist and pressing a kiss into the back on his neck, and his crotch into Makoto's backside. “If I called in sick we could stay in bed together all day,” he whispered, and Makoto closed his eyes, in part because he was relieved Kaimu didn't seem to suspect anything was amiss, and in part because the notion was not one Kaimu had put forth in a long time. He wasn't sure anymore how he was supposed to feel about it. For an older man, Kaimu had always had something on an appetite, and that felt less like a good thing now than it ever had before. 

“But,” Makoto said softly, hesitantly. “The overtime...” he tried to protest. 

“Ah, that,” Kaimu said with a sigh, pushing his forehead into makoto's should as if trying to force out some of the frustration and force himself to pull away. “Well,” he said, his hands sliding down to grope at Makoto's backside, making Makoto jump a little. “You'll just have to give me something to look forward to when I get home.”

Makoto turned, pressing himself into the counter a little as he blinked owlishly. “But when will you be home?” he asked, to which Kaimu shrugged. 

“Just wait up for me,” he said. “I want to see you as soon as I come home,” he commanded softly, with a kiss. “I want you to be ready for me, too...”

Makoto nodded meekly as Kaimu pulled away, reaching over for his bento box and turning to leave the kitchen. It wasn't long before he heard the door closing behind Kaimu as he left for work. Makoto couldn't bring himself to move for several minutes, half expecting Kaimu to burst into the room, and discovering his lies. His thoughts were wild with panic, and he could feel his heart racing and his hands shaking almost as violently as his legs. 

He shouldn't have done any of that, Makoto realised, turning his head in the direction of the toaster. He was lying to Kaimu, and kept lying to him. Every moment he spent thinking about Sousuke felt like a betrayal, and every moment that piece of paper remained in his home felt like danger was creeping up on him. For the first time in a long while, his relationship with Kaimu felt ore like it used to. He hadn't done anything to upset Kaimu, who seemed to be in an inexplicably good mood that morning, and judging by his speech, Makoto wasn't sure if he was in for a long and soft session of love-making or a good and hard fucking. 

Either way, Makoto knew he had to get his act together. Moving over to the toaster, he retrieved the phone numbers and moved once again to the bin, his expression determined. He couldn't do this. The phone numbers just needed to be taken out with the trash and that would be the end of it. There was nothing else for it. He couldn't betray Kaimu, not after everything he had done for Makoto.

When it came down to it though, Makoto couldn't let go of the paper in his hand and his expression seemed to crumble into one of uncertainty. It had felt so nice to see someone, and speak to someone old and familiar. Sousuke's voice was like a blast from the past and the sight of him was so good, that he couldn't...he remembered the way he had lied to Kaimu about him, pretended they had been strangers. In his heart it felt somehow foolish to hand that information over to Kaimu, and even more wrong that for whatever reason, he knew he had to hide his friendship with Sousuke. Makoto let out a shuddering breath, realising how little he had left. His other friends had abandoned him, but there Sousuke was, just waiting for him to call, and he had the means to do so sitting right in his hands. 

“Okay,” he said softly to himself, moving quickly into his bedroom and getting dressed for the day, slipping the phone number into his pocket. Biting his lip, Makoto moved into the laundry room, picking up his various bags of clean laundry, neatly labelled with the names of the families whom he had cleaned for, and set out. Ultimately, he wasn't sure what his end-game was, but his goal was Sousuke. He had to call Sousuke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm not even sure if I imagined the change in tone or if it is even a good thing.
> 
> I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update. I never meant to leave it this long, but I just found myself thinking about this fic for so long that I just had to get something out to you guys.


End file.
